


Not Another Word

by Katee (admiralkate)



Category: Trinity (TV 2009)
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Conflict of Interests, Desk Sex, F/M, Forbidden Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralkate/pseuds/Katee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the other secret life of Professor Maltravers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coitus Interruptus

It was during one their usual (fondly) derisive conversations that Dorian spied Lady Grey from the Dean's office window. She was tall, with dark mahogany hair and a splendid figure, and Dorian felt the immediate stirrings of want. 

He interrupted whatever Maltravers was saying (not that Dorian was listening) to ask, 'Who is _she_?' 

'Who?' The professor glanced out the window, expecting Dorian to be making another comment about the riffraff being let into the school. But the Lady was hard to miss. 'She,' he said to Dorian, 'is Lady Elizabeth Ashton-Grey, and if you have any sense, you'll be on your best behaviour while she's here. And you'll keep your Dandelions in check too. The last thing we need now is one of our primary investors being upset by your club's embarrassing antics.' 

They watched in silence for a moment as Ashton-Grey crossed the courtyard toward them.

'She's fit, though.' 

Maltravers snorted. 'Bit old for you isn't she?'

The younger man smirked. 'I don't discriminate by age… or marital status.' 

'What do you discriminate by?'

‘The Stinson Scale. And bank balances.’

‘Well, Dorian, this is one eight you won't be notching on your bed post.’

‘Eight? Nine.’ He looked again at the tall woman outside and gave a little grunt of appreciation. 

Maltravers frowned. 'Seriously Dorian. She'll eat you alive.' He pulled on his jacket. 'Best greet the dragon at the gates.'

Dorian followed him out and down the corridor, planning a charming first impression.  
They met the Lady by the fountain. The Dean smiled effusively, but was met with a cold stare. 'Lady Grey, how lovely to see you.'

'Maltravers.' She shook his hand shortly. 

The Dean introduced Dorian, who turned on his most winning smile, took the lady's hand and kissed it. She looked him up and down. 'A Dandelion.'

'The President of the club,' said Maltravers. 

She rolled her eyes and turned from Dorian to the Dean. ‘Let's get this over with.’  
Dorian caught the amusement in Maltravers' eyes at Grey's complete immunity to his charms. The Dean escorted Grey up the steps, leaving a stunned Dandelion by the fountain. 

Maltravers attempted to make pleasant small talk on their way to his office, but was met with abrupt answers or noncommittal “hmms.” 

He ushered her into his office and shut the door. It clicked loudly behind them. Neither said another word. 

Back in the courtyard, Dorian glanced up at the Dean's window. He wouldn't see anything at all from here. Was she any nicer to the Dean? Was she calling him on the carpet? He'd like to see that. Decision made, Dorian too made his way up the stairs. 

Edmund crossed the two steps between them in one long stride and without preamble pressed Elizabeth against his desk. He hiked up her skirt as she pulled his shirt from his belt and set about unbuckling him. His mouth was on her neck when she sought to correct their omission; with a hand in his hair she pulled his face up to hers. A moment of eye contact was all that was needed before he pulled her close and kissed her. Passion took a back seat to affection for a while as they expressed without words how much they’d missed each other. 

With a final press to the side of his mouth, Elizabeth leant back to look at him. She smiled, a hand stroking down the satin of his tie. She could feel his grip on her hips, and a shared thought resulted in him lifting her to sit on the blotter as she wrapped her legs around him. He bent back to her neck, and she returned to his fly. 

It was in that position that Dorian ambled in upon them: thankfully still clothed, but well into the process of becoming less so.

'Dean, I must say: Respect, old man. Respect.'


	2. Further Distractions

Maltravers glowered. ‘Forgotten how to knock, Gaudian?’

Grey just dissolved into a fit of giggles against Maltravers’ chest. He shot a look at the top of her head that clearly said _you’re not helping_ then directed his acidic gaze back to the boy in the doorway. ‘Get out.’

All smirking smugness, Dorian raised his hands in supplication and backed out. ‘Leaving you to it,’ he chuckled as the door closed behind him.

Edmund extracted his hand from under Elizabeth’s skirt as she grinned up at him. ‘I’m afraid,’ he said, cupping her face and kissing her gently, ‘that he rather killed the mood.’

Suddenly serious, she asked, ‘Do we need to worry?’

He shook his head and sighed. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

‘Later.’

He smiled, ‘Later.’

They re-tucked and zipped and buckled, and Edmund went to pour them each a scotch. ‘Edmund,’ Grey said. ‘It’s not even midday.’

He looked at the glasses in his hands, then at her, and put the glasses back on their tray. He moved to stand by the window, leaving Grey leaning back against his desk, now coifed and neatly straightened.

There were students in the courtyard, some gathering of some sort. The Arc girl looked to be involved. He supposed that was something he should be paying attention to, even as he watched Dorian cross the yard to her and touch her arm. She smiled at the boy and he kissed her cheek.

Edmund didn’t hear his own paramour stand behind him, only becoming aware of her proximity with the presence of her hand between his shoulder blades. ‘It’s not going well, is it?’

He slumped, just slightly. ‘I don't want to burden you.’

‘Part of my job.’

He huffed, ‘Your job?’

‘Yes,’ she said, guiding him gently to the side and coming to stand before him. ‘Looking after you.’

‘Is that mandated by the Company?’

He knew his mistake as the words left his mouth, and didn’t need to see her expression to know she hadn’t taken kindly to his outburst.

She pursed her lips and stepped away. ‘If you’re going to be like that-’

His phone rang. He shot her a helpless look as she shrugged, collected her jacket, and left. After a deep breath, he crossed to answer the call.

In the courtyard, Dorian spent some time convincing Charlotte to meet him later for a drink and was about to leave when he spied Lady Grey exiting the building. Storing away quips about stamina and age, he moved to intercept her but was beaten to it by the Warden. He watched a brief flash of annoyance cross Grey’s face before she settled on an expression of polite interest. Clearly, her encounter upstairs hadn’t gone well, and Dorian (without the slightest sense of guilt) had the suspicion that was his fault. The Warden was ushering Grey towards her own office, most likely to talk about investments and undercutting the Dandelions. For reasons that completely eluded Dorian, the woman had a disturbing need to eradicate his noble Club. Smugly, he realised that if what he’d seen upstairs had been any indication, good ol’ Angie would be fighting an uphill battle with the Lady Ashton-Grey.

Allowing herself to be guided towards the Warden’s office for “a cup of tea,” Grey had difficulty concentrating on what the other woman was saying. She hoped Edmund was still on the phone and hadn’t seen her talking to Dr. Donne, though the tingling on the back of her neck suggested otherwise. Grey told herself it was all in her head.

‘Lady Grey?’ The Warden was looking at her.

‘I’m sorry, I missed that last part,’ Grey admitted.

The Warden frowned slightly but continued. She wanted to talk about investing further in the Bursary Program and scholarships; something Grey was all for, but for the life of her, she just couldn’t focus. She knew Edmund was under an enormous amount of pressure, and that she was possibly being a little sensitive over his Company remark… but dammit, the man knew her better than that!

Grey continued to make affirmative noises until a cup of tea was pressed into her hands. She took a sip, and it was like a fog was lifted. _Tea,_ she thought, _cures everything._

Unfortunately for the Warden, she chose that moment to broach the subject of the Dandelion Club with Lady Ashton-Grey. Had she mentioned it before the tea, she probably could have gotten Grey to agree to anything. As it was, consciousness fully returned, Grey was on track to deftly deter the Warden from any attempts to convince Grey to undermine the Club. ‘While, particularly as a woman, I certainly agree with many of your points, Warden, I’m afraid I must disagree with your desire to disband the Club. It’s a tradition that’s been part of Trinity College for centuries. I admire your determination to drag the college, kicking and screaming, into the modern age, but there are some things I feel should remain to uphold the prestige of this institution.’

‘And you feel this pack of entitled rich boys is one of them?’

‘Perhaps not in its current form, but you must consider that the Club is part of what makes Trinity college so desired amongst the elite families of the country.’

Donne frowned at Grey. ‘Your attitude confuses me, Lady Grey. I would have thought, you of all people, would support what I’m trying to do here.’

Grey just gave a sympathetic smile and sipped her tea. One day, and hopefully soon, she’d be able to admit that the Dandelion Club was an embarrassment, and should be purged from the College without mercy. But today wasn’t that day. The Club was still essential to Edmund’s success. His membership and devotion to the Club was the only thing that had the potential to come between them, though even he had admitted that, publically, at least, it was well past its use-by date.

Maltravers was again dealing with his own annoying distraction in the shape of a persistent Dorian Gaudain. ‘Haven’t you got better things to do than bother me?’

‘Just curious as to the brevity of your encounter with our good Lady.’

If Dorian were anyone else, the clear warning signs of Maltravers’ clenching jaw and narrowing eyes would have put him off. As it was, not even the Dean’s brusque, ‘That’s none of your business, Dorian,’ had much effect.

‘That’s a shame,’ Dorian said, helping himself to one of the Dean’s Jaffa Cakes. ‘I’ve always been intrigued-’

‘I don’t care what you’re intrigued by. I don’t care about anything you have to say right now, Dorian, unless it’s you telling me that what you saw earlier will not leave this room.’

Dorian paused, biscuit midway to his mouth, the Dean’s tone finally sinking in. ‘But of course, Dean, I was planning on storing that little tidbit away for future use, anyway.’

Not for the first time, Edmund Maltravers used his intimidating stature to its best advantage. ‘No.’ He leant over Dorian, hands on the arms of the boy’s chair. ‘You won’t. You’ll forget all about it. While what you say about me matters little, you will not impugn the reputation of Lady Ashton-Grey. If you dare to mention what happened today to anyone, ever, in your miserable little existence, not only will I cease defending your Dandelion Club from the Warden, I’ll personally help scorch the earth as she destroys you.’

Dorian’s brain required a moment to process all that; then, ‘ _My_ Dandelion Club? You’re the fucking Treasurer.’

‘A post I will happily resign.’ He straightened. ‘It may take you a while Dorian, but you should realise that while you may think you have a little dirt on me, I have an awful lot more at my disposal.’ He plucked the biscuit from the boy’s fingers and dropped it into the rubbish bin beside the desk. ‘Now fuck off.’

 


End file.
